


A Helping Hand

by Thirivm



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, No Spoilers, Shameless Smut, help me I'm in love with a grumpy cowboy, this is extremely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirivm/pseuds/Thirivm
Summary: You report that everything’s still clear to Arthur, getting a quick nod from him as a reply, and you let a few more minutes go by peacefully before you slip your hand forward, your deft fingers easily starting to undo the clasp of Arthur’s belt and he grunts softly in surprise, looking down towards your hand and then back at you over his shoulder.“Darlin'.. What’n the hell are you doin’?”“Nothin’, just keepin’ an eye out for trouble.” You reply, smiling but not meeting Arthur’s gaze as you start to tug his belt loose.





	A Helping Hand

* * *

“Well now,” Dutch says, resting a hand against his gun holster as he stares down at the man tied up at his feet, and he pointedly ignores the way that he's being glared at by said man. “That just leaves you to be dealt with, son.”

You stand between Arthur and Javier, arms folded over your chest and your gaze on the young man as well. He’s more of a boy, really, probably younger than you by at least five years, and you’d probably even feel bad for the kid if he hadn’t been one of the O’Driscoll boys shooting at you a few minutes ago.

Lenny and John had both taken some non-fatal hits during the fight and Arthur was sporting a few new bruises from some of the brawnier members before you’d shot them down, so suggesting that Dutch be merciful was the last thing on your mind. But still, the kid could have information about upcoming O'Driscoll operations and you’re pretty sure that that was the only reason that Dutch hadn’t put a hole in his head yet.

“I ain’t talkin’-” The boy starts to say before a hard punch from Micah shuts him up, and you inwardly cringe when you see a fraction of a tooth mixed in with the blood that he spits out. Micah grins at that, looking eager to get another strike in but Dutch raises a hand to stop him before he looks out towards you and the other men.

“Find a horse for him. We’ll take him back to camp, see what he knows.” Dutch orders, stepping aside as Javier walks forward to bind a bandanna around the prisoner’s mouth. You expect it to go smoothly but then exchange frowns with Arthur when you both come to the same discovery after a quick search of the camp; there were no more extra horses. The O’Driscolls had a few when the fight started but most of them had bolted in the chaos, and the rest had apparently been caught in the crossfire.

You return to Dutch to relay this information and he frowns, reaching a hand up to stroke at his mustache with a thoughtful hum. In normal circumstances the prisoner could’ve just ridden with one of the men, but Dutch hadn’t brought the fight to this camp just to shoot O’Driscolls; this was a supply raid as well, and most of the horses were already loaded down with bags of food and ammo, limiting them to one rider each.

“Well, is someone willin’ to walk?” Lenny asks, clearly half-joking but there’s no response. You frown, thinking it over. Horseshoe Overlook was only a couple miles or so away from here, but that was still a long way to go on foot. But considering what sort of information this prisoner might give up in exchange for his life..

“I can do it.” You volunteer before you can second-guess your decision. Dutch turns towards you again, raising an eyebrow. “Buckshot’s carrying supplies but he can take the prisoner too. I’ll walk behind, make sure we’re not being followed.”

“That’s a hell of a risk to take,” John speaks up as he exchanges a look with a few other men, and it’s clear that most of them definitely don’t like the idea of you being stuck without a horse, especially if any more O’Driscolls managed to pick up your trail.

You open your mouth to argue that you were the sensible choice, to remind these men that you’d walked countless miles across these lands while growing up, but then another voice joins in on the conversation.

“She can ride with me.” All heads turn towards Arthur as he leads his horse forward, and his gaze lingers on you for a moment before he looks over towards the Van der Linde leader. “You wanted me to guard the rear anyway, Dutch. Take her horse back to camp and we’ll make sure no one comes lookin’ for those supplies or that boy.”

“We’re on a job, Morgan. That means no pushin’ her behind some bush for a quick fuck!” Micah jeers before laughing at his own joke. Bill snickers along with him but most of the other men just glare over at Micah and shake their heads.

“Go fuck yourself, Bell!” you snap back at the man before you notice the way that Arthur had tensed up. His jaw is clenched in anger, one of his hands flexing and for a moment you think he’s actually going to reach for the pistol at his waist but then Dutch raises a hand again, once more prompting silence from all of you and thankfully cutting off any further retorts from Micah.

“All right then, get the prisoner loaded onto that horse of yours.” Dutch orders you, and you nod in understanding as he turns his gaze to John. “Marston, you lead her stallion back. Bill, scout ahead to make sure there’s no surprises waitin’ for us. The rest of you boys stick with me, and Arthur, the two of you make sure we’re not followed.”

There’s a chorus of affirmations from the men around you and with Javier’s help you get the hog-tied prisoner settled onto Buckshot’s saddle. Your horse doesn’t move while you tied the man’s hands to the saddle horn but he does toss his head when John reaches over to take his lead line, and you quickly give the mustang’s neck a gentle pat to soothe him.

“Easy, boy.. It’s just for a little while.” you assure your horse, noticing the wary looks that he and John seem to be giving each other now. He probably won’t put up too much of a fight but people still tended to give your horse a wide berth; aside from a few choice members he wasn’t too friendly towards most of the gang, and so far you and Arthur – and for some reason Jack - were the only ones who could feed him treats without the risk of being bit. “Just don’t bite John.”

“Again.” John mutters under his breath, giving the ribs of his own horse a light nudge to get him moving and you worry for a moment that Buckshot’s going to fight it, but thankfully the mustang follows after John with no further issues aside from the occasional snort.

Bill takes off first to scout ahead while the rest of you get the last of the provisions loaded, and Dutch leads the others away while you and Arthur give the camp and the bodies a final look-over to make sure that you hadn’t left anything behind, though you find nothing but an unopened bottle of whiskey on one of the men.

“To the victor..” you say in lieu of an actual toast, raising the bottle towards Arthur before you take a swig, then shake your head with a groan at the familiar burn it leaves in your throat. The taste isn’t too great but it’s not the worst brand of whiskey that you’ve had lately, and you pass the bottle over to Arthur, watching as he throws back a mouthful as well.

“Damn, that's strong..” He huffs, shaking his head in the same way that you had before he hands the bottle back and leads you over towards his horse. You were pretty sure that no one had escaped earlier to bring in reinforcements but that didn’t mean that you should risk overstaying your welcome in the now-empty O'Driscoll camp. “You ready?”

“After you, Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur gets onto the horse first before helping you up and you settle yourself as comfortably as you can behind him, making sure that both your pistols and his rifle were within reach in case any trouble did happen to come calling. He gives the area one last look before urging his horse forward, and you head off in the direction that the others had gone at a slow but steady pace.

You acted as the lookout during the travel back, staying alert and ready for the first half-hour or so but so far all the two of you had seen was a few critters along with the occasional civilian that passed by, probably on their way to Valentine, and eventually you have to stifle a yawn.

Arthur wasn’t offering up much conversation, as quiet as he usually was when he was keeping an eye out for any unexpected dangers but the land you’re walking through is relatively flat, and you know that you’ll be able to easily spot any incoming threats long before they reached you.

Hmm. That actually gives you a bit of an idea when you try to think of some sort of.. entertainment.

You move slowly at first, leaning forward to press yourself against Arthur’s back and slip your hands beneath the thick fabric of his jacket before settling them around his waist. He turns his head towards you briefly in acknowledgement but he doesn’t say anything before facing forward again. So far, so good.

Things remain quiet over the next few minutes before you shift again, one of your hands staying where it rested on Arthur’s waist but you move the other one forward, letting your fingertips gently graze over Arthur’s side and down towards the line of his hips. You hear a soft intake of breath from him at the brush of contact but he still says nothing, probably assuming that you were still adjusting your hold on him, and you try to fight down a smile.

Being out in the open like this, you’re still sure to keep an eye out for trouble but now you’re looking for witnesses in general, and you don’t see anyone coming your way from any direction. That was good. Very good.

You report that everything’s still clear to Arthur, getting a quick nod from him as a reply, and you let a few more minutes go by peacefully before you slip your hand forward, your deft fingers easily starting to undo the clasp of Arthur’s belt and he grunts softly in surprise, looking down towards your hand and then back at you over his shoulder.

“Darlin'.. What’n the hell are you doin’?”

“Nothin’, just keepin’ an eye out for trouble.” You reply, smiling but not meeting Arthur’s gaze as you start to tug his belt loose. Arthur frowns, one of his hands releasing the reigns to grasp at your wrist and you start to pull back at his apparent protest but he just holds your hand in place, not pushing it away but not letting go either. He’s silent for a beat or two before he lets go of your wrist and picks up the reigns again, and you try not to smirk as you finally tug the belt open and then reach for the button of his jeans.

“You.. shouldn’t be doin’ that here,” Arthur mutters but you can hear the faint strain in his voice, along with the first soft hitch of his breath when you slip your hand down further towards his groin, cupping and rubbing at the familiar bulge through the thin fabric of his underwear. Arthur grunts softly as you keep fondling him, his brow furrowing when he double-checks that no one else was around before the tension in his body starts to loosen, though his grip on the reigns tighten.

It doesn’t take long for him to get hard and you push his briefs further down to free his cock from the restrictive clothing. You pull your hand back then, earning a soft grunt of objection from Arthur but you just take the time to spit into your palm before your hand is on him once more.

You start off slowly, moving your hand along the length of his erection in light but steady strokes. The friction is still a little rough but it's made easier by your saliva, and soon you’re coaxing soft moans from Arthur with each steady pump of your hand. You lean forward to get a better look at him, and feel a rush of satisfaction to see that he seems to be struggling to keep his eyes open, and his hips jerk hard when you give the base of his cock a light squeeze.

“Steady there, Arthur,” you whisper softly, enjoying the shudder that you feel go through him as you rest your head against his shoulder. “Don’t want you slippin’ off your horse or anythin’.”

“You’re doin’ one hell of a job actin’ otherwise,” Arthur replies in a strained voice that falls short of the sarcasm he was going for. He moans openly when you start to jerk him off a little faster, occasionally tracing your fingertips along the thick vein and up towards the head. He’s already leaking and you smear the beads of pre-cum down towards his shaft before you start pumping your fist again, the friction once again made easier.

You do decide to tease him a bit, swapping your pace between quick, rough strokes to slower, softer strokes that leave him bucking his hips for more, and he especially seems to like it when you move your hand up to work your thumb against the wet tip of his cock, applying just enough pressure to the sensitive skin with your nails to coax more breathy gasps from him.

“Fuck, that feels good..” Arthur growls out before he starts to lean more towards you, his hat nearly being knocked off as he drops his head back against your shoulder, and you see his grip on the reigns loosening again but he doesn’t let go entirely. His eyes are shut, however, and you can’t help admiring the shakiness of his voice along with the dark flush visible on his face, and his body jerks again when a particular squeeze of his cock draws a low groan up from his chest. “Just like that, darlin’..”

You’re unable to hold back a soft whimper of your own as he throbs in your grip, his thick cock so hot and heavy, and a part of you wants to stop right now so you can take him into your mouth, or let him slide himself deep into your cunt so you can chase your pleasure together. But the gang is waiting for you – they’re probably back at the camp already, in fact – so you suppose you can settle for this.

For now, at least, because you have every intention of dragging Arthur away from the camp after dinner tonight so you can get this perfect cock of his inside you.

Arthur groans when you tell him as much, whispering your wants and intentions into his ear and you can see his eyes glaze over, like he was imagining himself fucking you hard into the ground or burying his face between your thighs again. You’d happily take anything from him, cock, tongue, fingers, and you let him know this before pressing a kiss to the spot below his ear.

Arthur suddenly grips the saddle horn with one hand and turns his upper body towards you as much as he can, his gaze instantly dropping down to your mouth, and you already know what he wants before he can even say it.

You don’t tease him this time and instead you’re quick to lean forward, pressing a series of short, heated kisses to his lips between sharp breaths and you still don’t slow the movement of your hand, swallowing down his breathy moans greedily. His cock pulses when you squeeze him again and you know he’s getting close so you draw your head back, smiling when his lips try to chase after your own.

“Come on now, cowboy..” You give him another heated kiss before he turns back around and squeezes his eyes shut, breathing hard through clenched teeth as his hips start to stutter with each pump of your fist. He reaches down to settle his larger hand over your own, quickening the pace that you’re jerking him off at as he desperately tries to reach his peak, and you’re a little thankful for the help because your wrist was starting to get tired. You press a soft kiss to the side of his neck, drawing another moan from him. “Come on..”

“Darlin’, I’m-!” He tries to warn you but it only takes a few more strokes before Arthur’s suddenly cumming into your hand. His hips buck wildly as his pleasure finally crests, body arching away from your own, and his breathless cries of your name between moans are just music to your ears.

“Atta boy,” You praise him gently and keep stroking him while he shudders hard through the rest of his orgasm, your hand slick with his cum now, and you don’t stop until Arthur touches your hand again, gently urging you away from his flushed cock with a soft grunt.

You say nothing as you let Arthur come down from his high, taking a moment to clean your hand off with a handkerchief before you pass it up to Arthur so he can do the same. He does so quickly and then stows it away to be cleaned later before tucking his softened cock back into his jeans, and when you reach around to buckle his belt for him you can’t help but beam at the flustered look still on his face.

You wouldn't say it aloud, but that man looked so damn cute when he blushed.

“Feel better, Mr. Morgan?” You lean in to rest your chin on his shoulder again as he turns his head to look back at you, a smile on his face but there’s a hungry gleam in his eyes now that sends a throb of arousal between your legs. Oh, you know and love that look well..

“Ask me again once I’ve had my go at you tonight, sweetheart.” Arthur says in a voice heavy with promise. You can’t muster up a reply to that and Arthur winks at you before he faces ahead of him again, and you’ve never been so impatient for night to fall in your life.

* * *


End file.
